Bonds
by Guardian Kysra
Summary: Ayla, Eury, and the bonds that continue to haunt them in life after Methuselah. Prequel to Carpe Diem. Ayla Eury, second person from Ayla's pov. Part III of the Adrift Series.


_**Bonds**_

_By Kysra_

Eury calls you at god-awful o'clock in the morning without apology and an alarming tremor in his voice. You wake up more fully hearing it because you've never heard him sound quite like that – panicked and two steps from passing out; and it's interesting that you are the first he would contact in the event of an emergency. Briefly, you entertain a parade of possible answers to the question: What would Eury constitute as an emergency? Running out of hair gel? Waking up next to Sharem? The acknowledgement of a conscience?

You can't think further because he takes a shuddering breath on the other end, and there is a suspicious sniffle before he breathes out again, asking you to meet him at a familiar diner clear across town.

Becoming upset because he is upset, you say neither no nor yes but command him to tell you what's wrong, what's happened, Is everyone all right? For long moments, he says nothing and then in a quiet voice - one you recognize as his I'm-freaking-out-but-don't-want-to-worry-you voice, he speaks two little words that send you into a tizzy of action, grabbing for your keys and roll-jumping over the lump-o-Kiki in ten seconds flat.

You're out the door before you can really feel the news.

"Sera's pregnant."

- IR -

Five weeks, two days, and nine hours later, he calls again with that same quivering tone and unspoken fright coloring his words. He doesn't wake you this time, but you're inexplicably afraid the moment you saw his number flash across the LCD screen of your phone. Eury hasn't been himself since Sera dropped the bomb; and you haven't been yourself since that night at the diner. His impending fatherhood still feels new to you, and you're not sure why it's so hard to take in.

Binh and your family keep telling you that this is a good time to break whatever connection you have to Eury. "He's a bad influence," they say. "It was only a matter of time before his recklessness caught up with him."

And – as cliché as it is – they don't know him like you do; and you know that Eury is never reckless. Careless, yes. A risk-taker, definitely. But, he is also calculating and absolutely insistent on his own survival. More importantly, however, Eury never shirks responsibility. He certainly doesn't invite it but that does not translate into running away either.

This is how you know he never planned any of this and did everything in his power to prevent it. Perhaps Sera had inexplicably forgotten to take the pill for a few months, or maybe the condom broke. Whatever happened, you are reasonably sure that, though he had been scared spitless the night he first found out about the baby, he has steadily become more welcoming of the idea.

Which is why it is so strange to hear him now, scared spitless again and calling you as if you can fix this situation to his liking.

Mentally blocking the ongoing psycho-ramble thrashing between your ears and loudly hushing the continuous vocal ramble staggering from his mouth, you succinctly point out that it will be difficult to help him with a problem you are not privy to. His answer, when it comes, freezes your blood and not because you have some ethical instinct or you had dreams of being an auntie.

"Sera wants an abortion."

It kills you because it is killing him.

- IR -

Eury and Sera had been "dating" for three months before the fateful pregnancy test that effectively stopped your world in its tracks, and you're still not quite comprehending why the revelation has affected you so thoroughly even two days after it was supposed to have ended.

You watch Eury argue with the tall, buxom red-head as they haggle over the life yet growing within her womb. She's beautiful in a popular sort of way – all manufactured and cosmetic. But you can't blame her beauty for catching Eury's eye. He's proven to be more interested in the concept of the female gender as a whole rather than something governed strictly by attractiveness.

They are nearly toe to toe, and you have to remind yourself that they're no longer "together" because Sera looks as if she's a mere breath away from jumping his bones despite the deep scowl marring her smooth brow.

Suddenly, she's pointing at you with a sharp nail and a well-practiced glare. An accusation is thrown, and you wonder – not for the first time in fifteen minutes – why you are such a slave to Eury's wishes. To your right, Pearl's face turns cold and dangerous, and Sera knows better than to follow the claim with further insult. Really, you shouldn't be involved, not here, not now, and not fodder for any sort of sordid allegation.

If you were honest, you would have to admit your presence is a move fueled by vindictive impulse. You've never really liked Sera just as you've never really liked any of Eury's girlfriends. And that's fine, justified even. Eury doesn't like Binh (and the sentiment is returned tenfold) and Binh's just a friend, so you don't feel too guilty about it.

However, as you watch and listen and wait, you wonder if – in her place – you wouldn't make the same decision. She barely knows Eury, wasn't prepared, is still young with a bright future. An unexpected child would gum up the works, phenomenally.

. . . But it's the same for Eury, and – against all reason – he wants the baby.

By mid-morning, after six straight hours of negotiating, Sera agrees to carry the child and sign away her parental rights in exchange for all expenses incurred during the pregnancy and birth in addition to a large sum for the trouble as well as a solemn promise from Eury that he nor the child will ever seek her out after all is said and done.

They sign a hastily scribbled contract in lieu of something more legally binding and shake hands on it under the scrutinizing eyes of yourself, Pearl, and Sera's younger brother; and as you walk out of that unfamiliar house, Eury's arm about your shoulder, your world begins to turn again.

- IR -

Resistance, you've found through trial and error, is futile; and on a stormy September afternoon, you find yourself huddled in a mostly-empty lobby while Eury paces in front of you, Amy tinkers with some contraption or another next to you, and the rest of the Evanses are smoking outside.

Hours pass and just when you're about to fold and leave, the doctor sweeps into the room, still garbed in scrubs, and tells Eury that he is the proud Papa of a baby girl. When you get over the shock that the baby is here, alive, real, you smirk to yourself. It's a stroke of poetic justice that Eury should have a daughter to torture himself over.

He's grinning bright enough to light a small city for months, and you like the look, like that he is happy, love the way he seems to retreat into that private world for parent and child. The expression doesn't dim even when Sera refuses to see, hold, or feed the baby despite wanting to name the child. She has her money, wants nothing to do with them, and they respect her wishes. You feel a tinge of relief though you're not absolutely certain whether it's due to Sera's exit from your lives or because you stayed long enough to see this moment through.

And as midnight falls, you hold the sweet bundle and slip into quiet, infinite love as you stare into tired eyes as electric blue as her father's. She has been christened 'Marigold,' but you wrinkle your nose and return the solemn little pout bunching the ruddy, wizened baby visage. "You're such a beautiful girl, Mari-love."

She's taken from you to rest in the hospital nursery, and you find Eury's eyes as something unspoken and rather confusing but no less intense passes between; and later still, as he walks you to your car, telling you to be careful, you cannot help asking why he was so insistent about keeping that child, at this time, when he's barely ever home and could die any second.

"It's so simple, Princess. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out."

"What?"

"My mother was just like Sera."

- IR -

Though things aren't perfect and don't work like a well-oiled machine, they work out wonderfully besides. Mari spends days with either you or Pearl – though mostly with you – and nights with Eury (when he makes it home). You work out of your own house – a double business, one part lucrative financial consulting and three parts interior design firm, so the arrangement is ideal. The baby has her own little corner with a basinet and toys, and you had cleared out cabinet space for baby food, diapers, and other assorted accouchements before she was even born.

She fills up all the spaces you had somehow left empty without noticing, and you're secretly pleased that her arrival marks an increase in the number of times you have contact with Eury during the course of a week. He often comments that you stay busy so that you don't have to remember, but you happen to think the same of him, so you're like two peas in a very neurotic pod. You argue – equally often – about what Mari should call you when she's up to talking, and finally settle for the non-solution of allowing Mari her own preference. But what you like most is when he's bone tired and looks worn but still very Eury, and the baby is asleep and dreaming beneath the leaping-sheep mobile Pearl brought over after cleaning her son's baby things out of the attic. Those nights you insist he stays over and he accepts with a grin that is neither sheepish or altogether predatory.

He gives you those between-looks so often, you wonder if you've seen a full one at all. It's a scrutinizing sort of expression, similar to his reticent 'planning-in-progress' face but lacking the concentrated scowl of effort. It scares you to think that you're the subject of one of his schemes; but you give no quarter and neither does he, and soon enough six months are gone, and there's a new woman in his life.

That frightening, exhilarating (damn him), searching light fades from his eyes, but it doesn't fade from you.

- IR -

Eury tells you that he hopes Mari will resemble him, golden and blonde, with a careless smile and white, white teeth; but her hair grows in slowly, a dark crimson, and her eyes darken to the shade of crushed violet, a few shades from your own. You both decide that she is the most lovely child you've collectively seen, and he doesn't seem the least disappointed.

You begin to wonder if the novelty of her will ever wear away, and just when you have resigned yourself to the notion that it won't, Pearl shows up on your doorstep to inform you that Eury – who was supposed to have dinner with you, Binh, Kiki, and your parents, will not be attending.

This is nothing new or unusual; however, that he had to send Pearl to tell her of his absence is. Your heart sinks and the blood drains from everywhere, and Pearl – noticing you for the first time – rushes to put you at ease.

"Breathe, sweetie. Everything's fine."

"Really?" You don't sound convinced. You can barely breathe. "Then why . . . "

"He's alive and healthy but as stupid as ever. He's sorry he can't make it, but there's something he needs to take care of."

You've always liked Pearl. She's older and wiser and rarely ever loses her cool. It's strange to see her so agitated, completely annoyed but trying to keep the negativity in check for your sake.

"Pearl. What's wrong?"

She sighs and fingers her ever-present eye patch. "I wouldn't say anything is wrong exactly, but . . . my idiot brother will be giving Goldie a half-sibling just a few months after her first birthday."

- IR -

Unlike Sera, Amaya is all for having children with Eury, emphasis on the –ren. You're there for all the necessary hallmarks despite your own protests in addition to Amaya's. There's the first ultrasound, the first shopping trip, the baby shower, and – of course – labor.

While Marigold was born in the doldrums of autumn despite her summery name, this second child comes on the heels of winter. Eury wants you in the room this time since he is, and Pearl, Jett, Ray, and Amy – with Mari in tow – wait in the lobby. You wish you were anywhere but there when the time comes because watching him hold her hand reminds you of some half-baked notion you know you'd do better just forgetting.

Amaya is sweating and heaving and pushing, and it's so violet with her screams in that colorless birthing room with the bright lights and white walls. You want to run, but you're transfixed as the doctor lifts the fluid soaked, pinking baby as she begins to wail against the mucus damning her lungs.

When she has been rubbed down and swaddled and passed around to you, you fall in love again, this time with pale blue eyes and a full head of darkish hair surrounding a wrinkly, pink face. This one will be pale and brunette like Amaya , you think, but maybe she'll have his eyes.

"I think I'll call her Raine," he whispers it into your ear, the warmth flowing over your cheek to yout very bones. Tears come to your eyes as you look at him and smile.

Methuselah and Machika would have liked that.

- IR -

Eury asks Amaya to marry him during Christmas dinner nearly a year later. She accepts but walks out the next day – leaving a note and Raine behind; and Eury reacts badly. He takes a job that should only last a few days.

He doesn't come back for five months.

The children are left in your care, and though you do everything possible to keep them happy, Mari is old enough to ask questions, and she knows that Binh (now your fiancé), is not her father. She can sense your upset. You find her staring at you sometimes with a stare that is patient and waiting; and you wonder how this child could be so calm while you're in a constant struggle to keep yourself together.

Binh asks you one night if you're ready to let Eury go.

You decide then and there that you will never let Eury go even though you know doing so would probably insure you a life of peace.

You also decide that when you see him next (because you know he's alive out there) you will hurt him just enough to give him a taste of what he's putting his children, his _family_(which includes you, hopefully) through.

- IR -

His return is met with laughter from Mari and the purest of baby smiles from Raine, and it is all you can do to keep from bashing his head in. There are tears swimming behind your eyes that you won't let him see and anger so deep and full and boiling that you're almost afraid to be left alone with him.

When the girls are asleep and Binh has excused himself to see to his job at a nearby law firm, you explode, crying and yelling and praying he can understand the garbled words shooting out of your mouth like bullets. His face is a wash of mottled colors, blurred and muted by the tears that overcome you, and you wish – not for the first time – that he wasn't so important to you. Your words, you know, are hurtful and punishing but no less than he deserves, and he uncharacteristically stands there calmly and _takes it_ without even attempting a defense.

His steadfast quiet, the way he looked so haggard and drawn when he arrived on your doorstep, these signs are what convince you of the guilt writhing in his gut and what lead you to forgive him.

Soon enough, you're on your knees sobbing and holding your hands to your chest because it hurts so much and you feel so cold and empty. There's pain in your chest, hair sticking to your face, and you can't speak around the tears; but it all slows and calms when Eury's arms tuck you into his body and lock you against his heart.

You realize suddenly that it only hurts this much because you're so relieved, that his absence had affected you to this degree because you love him. And you know that you will never be able to let him go even if you tried, so you beg him instead.

_Don't let go. Please, don't let me go._

- IR -_  
_

Raine says her first word and it is not 'Mama' or "Dada" but "Lala". Mari soon picks up the name until you answer to it with wonder in your eyes, a smile in your heart, and a concerted effort not to show the small worm of disappointment burrowing through your soul.

You know he can see it, though, and it scares you that he does; but he never says anything, never makes you own it. Instead, he merely stands close to you when the unacknowledged pain comes to the surface , takes your hand and holds you.

It is in those moments that you finally understand why you would never give Binh or your family the satisfaction of severing ties with this man and his family. He understands you, knows you, _sees_ you; but more importantly, he hears what you will never say in the shadows of your eyes and the lines in your face.

After all, he has known the same losses you have, but he has also shared what little comfort he has gained.

- IR -

Time goes by, the children grow, and the simmering anger from his five month absence eventually fades.

He's looking at you with that half-searching, half-pointed look again, and you find that something in you soothes to it. It's a look of something vaguely like _promise_, and you pretend to misunderstand why Binh is so paranoid of it.

The bonds that connect you to Eury are too vast and numerous and_comfortable_ to ignore for long. You know this, can predict that it will only be a matter of time before he pounces and you surrender; but for now, you will content yourself with weekly tea, watching and loving his children as "La-La", and weekend dinners with the entire Evans clan just until he is ready to look at you with purpose rather than promise and you are brave enough to let him.

Author's Note: This takes place between 'Adrift' and 'Carpe Diem' and there will be two more shorts from this universe before I'm completely finished with Ayla and Eury and their sordid (but fun) relationship (or . . . finished until vol. 9 comes out anyway ).

Why it demanded to be written in second person is anyone's guess.


End file.
